


the safeword is nothing

by epistaxiophilia



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, M/M, im so shit at figuring out relivant tagging dawg, it's 7k words of restrained fucking what can i say, like legit full leather bondage dawg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:02:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19841308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/epistaxiophilia/pseuds/epistaxiophilia
Summary: ansem strains to find ways to convince xemnas to submit that doesn't involve (consentually) fist fighting him first.xemnas figures out he doesn't mind being incredibly useable and lazy in bed.





	the safeword is nothing

It starts at first with ropes, and while Xemnas thinks he could _enjoy_ this if he’d err to let himself, it’s too easy to slip out of the knots and binding so dutifully tied for him. He doesn’t even necessarily think about doing it- Xemnas pulls himself loose as he watches Ansem with a curious tilt of his head, his heart travelling down between his legs where underwear still remains to contain him. A moment of distraction as he catches his head between his thighs, earning him a disgruntled noise- and shortly after, a length of rope drapes itself over his head.

With an amused huff, Ansem’s amber gaze wanders up the length of his body’s torso, meeting up with Xemnas’ equally golden, but half-lidded, unamused eyes. “Well, you’re not supposed to just escape like that.”

“You expect me to sit politely,” Xemnas rumbles, leaning up and toying around with the length of rope until the draping turns into a wrap around Ansem’s head, tightening it momentarily around his eyes until an annoyed hand raises to fully remove it. Stealing it now, Ansem rolls it up in his palm and sets it aside on the floor, failed and discarded.

Pushing out from between his thighs, Ansem stands, grabbing behind a knee and pushing Xemnas’ leg upwards until he’s coerced with force to lay flat on the bed, which he does do despite the bratty response to the rope-play. “I expected you to find your way out, but that was quick for even my expectations.”

“So? Are you bored then?” A foot raises, pulling from Ansem’s grasp and finding its bare self pressed to his chest, the relatively cold sole stealing the warmth of the heated core of his heart.

“As much as I enjoy fighting you every time we’d like to fuck,” he snags his foot again, shaking it for inflection. Rope burns around his ankles equally tell a story of another failed attempt, and if he snuck out of ropes with his toes, Ansem’s not sure what he was expecting with the ones around his arms. “It makes it harder to do things in the morning.”

“You have things to do in the morning?”

“Yes- and so do you, lazy,” he hisses, still amused, but definitely wracking his brain. He knows Xemnas finds this game ‘fun’, he ‘enjoys’, relishes when his heart ‘controls’ him, pins him and forces submission from him- but Xemnas will _not_ give it freely, demanding every ounce of effort to tame his heart-less existence. As Ansem has told him now, wasting all your energy banging the night before makes it hard to work the next day- and Xehanort is smarter than not to know his two wayward halves weren’t exhausting themselves fucking like rabbits the night before. Equally, he has no patience or pity for it, and enough times they’ve been on the receiving end of an old man beating for their crimes. Xemnas doesn’t care either way, but Ansem does, so now he’s forced to think of ways to… alleviate the strain. Maybe not for every single encounter of theirs, but the occasional times his body requires his energy be rung from him like a towel.

“I think you know well now un-lazy I can be.”

“Only when you _want_.”

“You should feel honoured I _want_ of you,” he hums, leg relaxing back down along with the rest of his posture, eyes fully lidding as he accepts Ansem doesn’t have the effort to fight him tonight. He’s frustrated and horny, but he isn’t the kind to beg.

“Hey now,” Xemnas’ leg is retrieved, and a single eye opens to peer down at his heart, “I have not given up yet.”

“Apologies. You sounded like you had,” he huffs, once again placing his foot, to chest.

His free hand pressing knuckles to his jaw, Ansem’s eyes drift to the side as he muses a thought. “Ahh… Did you dislike being contained? Is that why you immediately removed yourself?”

Tilting his head from side to side as he thinks, “Not necessarily. It just was not… challenging, enough.” Bringing his hands forwards, Xemnas idly rubs his wrists, and the bruises he’d caused himself pulling out of his binds.

Nodding, “I see. As much as I could make an upwards progression to stronger ropes and stiffer knots, instead, for both our sake, I might just jump straight to ten.”

“Don’t waste your time with interludes you know will not work.”

“Well, it might work at a point, but there’s no harm in doing what I’m certain will work instead.”

“Ohhh,” Xemnas nearly purrs, dragging his foot down its placement on Ansem’s chest till it levels on his hip, “So certain of your success.”

“Being sure I’ll win is all I know. All ‘we’ know,” he laughs, dragging himself and all the Xehanort iterations and their constant arrogance. “Now, do you trust me?”

“I trust that if you destroy me, you’ll get in trouble.”

Rolling his eyes, “I’m not going to _destroy_ you. But I don’t want you to be upset, either.”

Slowly blinking, Xemnas gives his heart a deadpan moment of silence, hands laying crossed palm over his chest, “I don’t ‘feel’ upset.”

Having already rolled his eyes, Ansem opts to give his body an equal stare-down. “Quit.”

“Be assured I will tell you if I find anything you do distasteful- and you know I will.”

“Ah, but to a point, verbal cues won’t be something you’re capable of.”

“Oh?” This rises a curious lilt from him, the barest raised eyebrow. A silent pause as his thoughts wander to answers, “That kind of jump to ten, hmn.” From a single length of rope to, Xemnas assumes, pure bondage. Something he’s thought about, seen himself, but not experienced. Who would he ever trust to try?

“No?”

“If you think you can,” he teases, sharp in his tone, literally daring him to try.

Despite coming to the correct conclusion, it still catches Xemnas off guard and, to Ansem’s visual grace, oddly submissive as he lays there and watches his heart work. It takes him a short while to build the thoughts in his mind, pulling from the darkness until it bends to his wishes, forming bindings befitting of Xemnas’ over-active intelligence. Delicately, Ansem retrieves each of Xemnas’ legs, pulling these formed restraints over each limb, and it’s almost like thigh high boots- but with a line of belts an buckles to each side. Xemnas can’t help but pose for a moment, tilting his head back and forth as he sits up on the mattress with a leg flexing over the edge, on account of how much it just sort of.. looks like sexy boots.

Stifling a laugh, Ansem can’t help but look his amusement on his face. “You already like this too much.”

“I think I might have,” he shrugs, unwilling to admit he felt any inkling of enjoyment to how this was escalating, and before he knows it, Ansem is pulling similar slips over each arm.

“I might regret to admit that I’m surprised you’re just letting me put this on you.”

“Mnn,” Xemnas hums, looking over a darkness-leather coated arm, and over the flat, useless pocket his hand rests in, made fingerless. “It wouldn’t be fair to not even give them a chance to bind me. Once you’re finished, then I can properly test them.”

Wiggling an eyebrow, “Oh? Just that?”

Gaze flicking to Ansem from his bindings, and Xemnas ducks his head in challenge, “Would you prefer to test _yourself_ again- or just your toys here?” He flicks out a leg, whacking Ansem’s side with a line of unbuckled belts.

“… Duly noted,” he nods, remembering the point of this in the first place. They can argue physically about it later. One more arm, and Xemnas is more leather than he is man, restrainedly amused as he peers across his covered form. Definitely enjoying himself too much. “I’m not even done yet.”

“Oh,” his gaze follows Ansem’s hand as it pushes down an encased wrist until it’s pinned to his shoulder. Ah yes- not just fun covers, as Ansem tightens each belt to the outside of his arm, despite his hand already rendered quite useless from the mitt, now his arms become incapable of being outstretched. He _doesn’t_ expect, however, how badly this would impact his balance, and as Ansem pushes up his calf to do something similar to it, Xemnas flexes awkwardly in a desperate attempt not to end up sideways.

To no avail, however, and Ansem snags him by a restrained forearm to slowly lower him horizontal to the bed. “You’re already at a major disadvantage, I see.”

“It’s not like I can catch myself with an arm,” he rumbles back, nose wrinkling in distaste as he attempts to right himself with his elbow, but Ansem does not allow this, pulling up on his half restrained leg until he gives up and lays prone with a huff.

“Regretting your choices?” Ansem purrs down to him, still buckling up his other leg, gently flipping him to reach the other leg.

With a grunt at the audacity of being manhandled around(but really, Xemnas, what did you think was going to happen.), “This is definitely a jump in control.”

Pausing, Ansem looks down at Xemnas for a telling moment, looking for signs of true hesitation- but it’s more like annoyance, trying to parse the situation. “I don’t know what you expected.”

Grumbling, “Me neither, apparently. Continue.”

Ah, yes, very forward- so he does, pulling the straps tight until his feet are pressed to ass, leaving him hobbling on the knees and elbows of his limbs if he wants to try moving. Which he isn’t inclined to do, so he awkwardly lays back on his back, looking over his new restraints in almost curiosity. Much more contained than those ropes were- no matter how he tests and plays around, with fingers and toes trapped behind a layer of material, unless he cheats and uses magic(which is against the rules), he seems quite adeptly stuck. Also unexpectedly, there’s a strange thrill to how he loses the sensation to feel anything beyond his torso, weakly pulling down a restrained arm to uselessly rub against the sheets beneath him. Ansem can’t help but laugh low in his throat at these unexpected antics, “You seem to be finding this terribly interesting.”

“It’s very unexpected.”

“So, you’ll be pleased to hear that I’m still not finished?” The barest tilt of his head, Xemnas’ eyes flick between a bound leg and back up to Ansem, who idles leaned over the mattress between each restrained thigh. Hands drag up his stomach, Xemnas flinching beneath as they find places to tickle, albeit accidentally. Quite warm now, the cool touch of Ansem’s hands has him reeling- and instinctively, Xemnas tries to pull an arm down to dislodge his touching, but of course, he’s caught up in the belts, the metal clinking and strained creaking of leather the sound of his useless limbs. Knowing full well of this fact, those hands wander elsewhere unimpeded; beneath the cusp of his chest, to the side of his ribs(which _really_ tickles, receiving Ansem a knee to the chest that _can_ reach, though it takes a few solid whacks and an ominous rumbling to dislodge him), until they cup under his jaw, fingers scratching up the base of his hairline where he finds himself weaved into those long, grey locks. Ansem knows this is a soft spot, and almost immediately his body’s head bows to the attention, eyes lidding as he hums a pleased tone. Arms lay down to the side, offering, at least for the moment, comfortable compliance. Crawled up on the bed now, Ansem’s thighs rest beneath Xemnas’ contained legs, still underwear’d crotches pressed together. As always, Ansem’s already half at the ready, and Xemnas is barely aroused- or so he was expecting, but there’s definitely a mote more pressure than usual there between them. With Xemnas now, at least momentarily satiated, hands leave his hair, and in turn amber eyes flick barely open to peer at what his heart was apparently still up to. A tapping on his jaw, “Open.” Without much thought, on account of the previously earned submission, Xemnas drops jaw, tongue barely lolling its tip from beyond his teeth. Expecting a finger, it’s again a surprise when his teeth feel something like a long, rubber bit, but his eyes can’t see down enough to really get a look at what’s going in his mouth. He thinks to spit it out- but Ansem’s too quick on the draw, and it’s belted to the back of his head before his tongue can press it out of his mouth. Ah, as he’d said earlier. ‘without verbal cues’. Curious eyes blink up again from the bit and to Ansem’s face, which has him infinitely fascinated- because he’s not sure he’s ever seen him look so timid. “Alright- you can’t look at me like that,” stifling a laugh, he was planning on blindfolding him anyways, but he’s empowered by that expression he’s been given. Instinctively, Xemnas leans back from the leather blindfold that now obscures his vision, but Ansem isn’t inclined to believe he’s truly off put by this. As he’d said earlier- if he wasn’t ‘into’ this, he’s a shift-step away from freedom.

Xemnas can’t help but bite at that obstruction in his mouth, thoroughly distracted by it- until now _unseen_ hands snake up his sides again. Neither of them expects the impulsive thrashing that causes, but Ansem stops immediately- only to stop himself from laughing. This provides him with an audible rumbling from his restrained body from beneath his palms, chest heaving, and he purrs down back to him, “Sshh, alright, alright, I’ll stop.” He’s entirely impressed how immediate the submissive changeover is the moment Xemnas is blindfolded, but that won’t stop him from taking advantage of it. Just, avoid the tickling, apparently. Is being ticklish an emotion? He supposes it isn’t- it’s just a response, like vocalizing pain, which Ansem _knows, personally,_ Xemnas does.

A momentary pause as his attention is brought rather between Xemnas’ legs, and the underwear he’d ‘neglected’ to remove earlier. No getting them off normally now, so he opts to snap through them with his bare hands, prompting more annoyed rumbling, and, as Xemnas fails to hold back drool about the bit he was near chewing holes into, the wettest hiss. “Oh quiet you.” Ansem fully re-distracts his errant body when his underwear is replaced with warm breath. Sliding down his knees to the floor, he presses palms to each restrained thigh of Xemnas, pushing them apart.

There’s a moments hesitation, but he relaxes past his nerves to the probable realization of what is coming. Despite this, Xemnas still flinches when lips brush against the uncovered skin to the side of his cock, because well, he isn’t exactly used to not seeing things coming. It comes with the side effect of being unable to spread his attention on multiple thoughts, focusing himself to the warmth and wet that comes to encompass his wholly interested self. He feels that amused hum from Ansem vibrate down his shaft at the fact Xemnas finds himself so aroused, so quickly- and while he’d like to explain it’s not necessarily because he likes it(he does), but because he has nothing else to focus on. Well, Ansem might think, lets give you something interesting for that big mind of yours to think about. Soon enough, he’s feeling that tight rough of the back of his throat constricting the head of his cock. Oh, and focus Xemnas does, instinctively rolling his hips forwards to the pressure. A little difficult with half the limbs, but a movement that’s still doable. Well, until with a huff, there’s a firm palm on his hip, pressing him down into the mattress. A quiet hum, “Lay,” which unlike his command to ‘open’ earlier, Xemnas is significantly less willing to do. When Ansem finds his pressing fought against, he thinks to remove his mouth as ‘punishment’, but he knows that kind of carrot-holding doesn’t necessarily work with his body- and he has otherwise to assist him tonight. Instead, he grabs at the bottom of one covered foot, and presses upwards, coercing his knee to push up towards his chest. A momentary awkward wiggling as Xemnas bids to keep his balance despite the readjustment of his leg, rasping against the wet of his bit, but it is to no avail. In this position, Xemnas can not readily move his hips upwards, and he doesn’t have enough leverage in his arms to win back his legs. So now he’s forced into the gentle thrum of throat around cock with no respite unless he feels like really thrashing.

Once Xemnas seems to accept his fate with only the occasional rumble and shifting, Ansem ‘relieves’ him of his mouth, only to reach over across the bed for something. Xemnas eyes ‘follow’ from the sound of it, and the way his weight displaces the bed, catching Ansem up with a tsk of his tongue. “You can’t see me, what are you looking at.”

A warbled noise of complaint, snapping at his bit as he ‘stares’ back at his heart.

Leaning back between his legs with a few more tsks, Ansem watches back as Xemnas’ obscured gaze trails behind his movement. It startles Xemnas out of his focus when a cool, wet drop of unseen fluid pools itself between the crack of his ass. Unlike saliva, which retains a mote of warmth, this is definitely the cold of forgotten lube, which at least prepares him mentally for what arrives next. First, of course, Xemnas settles back down into the sheets to warm breath sighing down the side of his very erect self, and then second, he doesn’t even balk to the finger pressing at his entrance. He spreads his focus between that familiar but invasive feeling stretching him out, then a spare thought to the sound of wet friction slicking between fingers and the parting of saliva damp lips that find themselves warm against his shaft. All very predictable when he thinks about it.

Ansem laughs under his breath to his ‘sudden’ relaxing, leaning up to purr into the side of his cock, “Ahh, I understand,” he drags his tongue lazily down the side of his cock, pressing in a finger past a knuckle, and then two. Ansem doesn’t even need to push against his foot now to gain compliance- but Xemnas has himself propped up now, albeit awkwardly, to ‘stare’ down at the attention between his legs. Well, wait now, now he’s managed to divert his focus to not even looking at him, instead of two fingers pressed lovingly up inside of him. “Laaay,” Ansem rumbles up at him, pressing up on his foot again, but that trick won’t work again on how he props himself up on the nubs of his arms. Still lazily fingering him, Ansem hums as he mulls over his options, even opting to occasionally still lazily run a tongue over the side of his shaft to make sure the damn thing stays interested, but there’s a chance there’s no getting over Xemnas’ bratty demeanor… right now, at least.

Only a minute of idle fingering before he removes himself, a quiet rasp from Xemnas above him as Ansem readjusts his weight- again, he follows the sound of his movement with his unseen eyes, darting down a moment as presumably warm wet fingers wipe excess fluid off on the sense-numbed leather of his inner thigh. Outstretching that limb painfully when he remembers its there, unable to relax the muscles beneath and creaking the fabric with exertion- but as magically made as it is, and as Xemnas refuses to ‘cheat’, it does not budge or split despite his insistence. Ansem makes himself away from him for seconds longer than Xemnas wishes he would, leaving him restrained and prone there on the bed with an ass full of wet and a dick full of hard, untouched and stimulated. Fortunately enough, he hears the footfalls nearby, and the lack of a door opening, so he knows his heart isn’t being cruel enough to leave him completely- because at that point, he _would_ cheat, and there would be a _fight_. Ansem is very aware of that, however, and would never think to leave him like this, for _someone else to find_ , if somehow Xemnas found himself stuck. _Not without talking it over with him beforehand, of course_. Instead, when Ansem returns, Xemnas feels and hears him crawl over the side of the bed, skin hitting skin as he slides his bare calf across Xemnas’ ribs. Hands weave into his hair again to regain compliance, and while now he’s less willing to give it, Xemnas does abate, relaxing back down as he attempts and fails to cross his legs in impatience. Soon enough, though, those hands scratching through his hair move to his ears, and a thumb presses something down into the canal. Earplugs? No- that’s cheat- I don’t- he garbles out from behind the rubber bit in his mouth, properly muted from speech, but the thrashing and complaint is enough that Ansem doesn’t move to plug the other ear, yet.

Leaning down to it, instead, he purrs to his body, “Calm now- I just want you to focus. None of this distraction and otherwise- but just on what **_I_** _give you_.” He words himself very particularly, and this game that they play- that the heart _gives_ , and the body _listens_. Not that Xemnas is all body now- but he likes to pretend, play his little game of heart-less nothing. Alternatively- Xemnas also likes to pretend he’s immune to the whims of his heart, be it the one regrown and stunted inside of him, or the one that lingers beside him now(or rather, the one that discarded him some years ago), Xemnas finds himself _illicitly excited_ by the thought of the _normalcy_ behind being controlled by a heart. You know, in the privacy of his own room. And so- he relaxes now at Ansem’s coaxing, understanding the sentiment behind wanting the remove that one last sense he was abusing to distract himself from his command. With him laying prone again, his hand snakes across the sweating skin of Xemnas’ neck to the other side of his head, offering that side a few good scratches of its own before plugging it also.

Pitifully numbed now, Xemnas absolutely fawns, lowering each limb back into the bed so slowly and vacantly. Just barely over his breath, even though he doesn’t necessarily need to be quiet now, “Oh good, I killed him.” Still with that hand about the side of his head, Ansem trails his touch down to remain unstartling, avoiding those ticklish edges until he can wrap a hand around his cock, it having become bored after that little interlude, but eager in his palm to reignite. Barely still wet with spit, Ansem finds himself another handful of lube, working it in his fingers to edge off some of the cold before slicking over him. It still provides a shiver up Xemnas’ spine, jostling Ansem from his half-lean on his body’s side as he’s propped up alongside to jack him off. Also, Ansem is greeted with the unexpected but thoroughly enjoyed side effect to his muting; beneath the wet rasping each time he breathes behind his bit, Xemnas is starting to _creak_. His body was never one to moan, at least not without effort, so the fact he’s vocalizing for this little bit of sensation has Ansem tingling at the hips. Re-adjusting weight from his sitting as his hips subconsciously rock forwards for nothing, Ansem’s entirely erect self is straining past the waistband of his underwear. “Ahh, enough of this then,” because while he _could_ tease Xemnas all night, he’s tired of teasing himself. Besides- after he gets himself off, there’s _nothing_ saying he has to free Xemnas immediately.

At least, Xemnas still feels the shifting of the bed, but he doesn’t have the effort in him to look towards the movement, his gaze plastered to the unseen sensation between his legs. He feels particularly vacant now, he can feel himself creaking past his throat, and the muted sound of it behind his jaw, but it feels so distant he forgets that it must also come out of his mouth if he’s hearing it inside. Ansem’s weight never fully leaves the bed, but he’s back under his ass now, thighs slipping beneath his to sit him up on his lap. A firm grip snags the belts on his restrained thighs to pull him up and closer, earning him the pins and needles of a lacking blood flow from beneath, and then his attention is snagged to the erection pressed between his ass. Fingering was some minutes ago, so it would be a stretch, but nothing Ansem hasn’t inflicted on him before. Rolling his hips forwards, he passively accepts the given direction, shaking out his head from the strain on his attention. Instead of solidifying his mind, the magnified focus leaves his mind entirely foggy and unwilling to think on much of anything. Xemnas reacts just instinctively, as he’s assured Ansem is after, so suppose they’re both winners here. He’ll see how he feels once there’s something jammed up inside of him.

Not that he’s ever found receiving unpleasant, despite it apparently being the ‘weaker’ of the two options here. As he’s apparently given permission, slowly, that pressure slicks wet against him for a few long drawls, before positioning to catch instead- once, twice, and a third time as he holds steady to press inside. Remarkably relaxed despite, and while he’s correct in his assumption it would be a stretch, Xemnas finds himself penetrated easily, relaxed and wholly willing. Sighing past his bit, he feels that gurgle of spit still caught on his lips, sinking his teeth into the rubber in frustration, but this seems to spur his heart on, and sooner than he would appreciate, that intrusion pulls outwards. Not for long, of course, working his way into hilting with a slow steady pace, that pained sensation creeping from his pelvis and upwards into his hips, his thighs- but dulls where it normally would tense up underneath the muscle of his legs. Tied tight and muted to his skin, he ‘feels’ the pressure of Ansem’s grip on his thighs there, but not the skin itself, the transfer in heat from sweaty palms, or the grip of fingernails into skin. There’s almost a thought now, if there were legs beneath him at all- but no, we’re all here, you relax. Weakly, an arm raises, but there’s that similar feeling, that muted sensation that stops the air from brushing past him as he moves... Apparently, the tense in Xemnas of that thought catches up on his heart, and the leisurely started fucking slows to a stop, hilted but waiting. Watching. The grips on either thigh remove themselves, sliding down the leather to his hips instead, that place of real skin, and Xemnas relishes in that texture of skin and sweat between them. Having relaxed him out of whatever response that was, the fucking continues, and soon enough, Xemnas forgets again that he’s muted, moans slipping past his usually reserved throat to gurgle quietly past his bit.

Ansem is unsuspecting to how incredibly hot this would become so very, very quickly. Well, when Xemnas doesn’t start looking like he’s questioning everything in his life up to this point- how he manages to look like that despite being blindfolded and muted is beyond him, but he slows, lets his body catch his thoughts. A change in touch, perhaps, and he sinks his nails into the flesh of his waist instead. A bit more awkward to thrust into, but at this point, he feels like a hair trigger away anyways. Pounding out his earlier frustration on an obscenely willing cock sleeve, nothing he was expecting to receive tonight, but relishes in, hopes this isn’t some one-time deal, hopes that Xemnas isn’t hating this, even the barest curling of hate his pale light could provide him. God, this doesn’t feel like hate, the way he’s writhing beneath him, creaking past his usual stalwart facade to moan, unable to do anything but receive what he’s so gracefully giving him. Ansem’s rough pace barely takes the time to position anything but for his own pleasure, but occasionally he deigns to shift his hips enough to slam into that sensitive spot inside him. Mostly, because it earns him the pleasure of hearing Xemnas moan beneath him, muffled but so very audibly into the night air. Not enough to say, alert another outside their room, but more than anything he’s ever heard his body make. He almost regrets the bit now, because it’s muffling him past the rubber, and as Ansem leans up over him, planting hands beneath his armpits and thrusting beneath him, he’d like nothing more than to taste that vocal pleasure spilling out. Ansem reaches to snag a hand beneath his head, prompting a confused sputter from Xemnas beneath as he feels the pressure release beneath his teeth, but there’s no chance to remark more legibly before it’s replaced by a foreign tongue. A hand wraps around the base of his neck to remind him not to bite, as Ansem does feel teeth start to close around the muscle of his tongue, but he realizes the change at last, returning the affection. Now, with the taste of him on his lips, Ansem’s pace stutters out his coming climax, his own voice warbling past his usual reservation to mumble unheard words of desire, “Aren’t you, just a warm little, fuck toy,” rumbling into a laugh that shakes his chest with each thrust. At this point, Ansem wonders if Xemnas would even care if he heard such a thing purred into his ear, because the way he writhes and pants beneath him paints a picture of that perfect aforementioned- delimbed, warm and wanting thing to fuck.

Xemnas feels the pace beneath him slowing, expecting to feel those last stuttering thrust to signify his heart’s end, but instead, he sits hilted, hips barely moving a still erect cock deep inside. Holding himself, for reasons he doesn’t understand, and while now he is ungagged and able perhaps to question, Xemnas still can’t hear, so what would be the point. He swallows roughly, readjusting his jaw beneath Ansem’s lips he still feels pressed to his, occasionally squeezing his insides to tease- he knows Ansem is trying to pace himself, and Xemnas refuses to make that easy. It earns him another rough shove to the throat, and with a soft motion, Xemnas is relieved of his penetration. Of course, that leaves him feeling incredibly empty, and he rumbles this audibly, clicking his teeth in distaste. An incomprehensible shift in position, he knows Ansem is moving but he doesn’t have the mental fortitude to figure out what and for why, until a firm grip grabs those belts of his thigh again, and he feels himself easily pushed to the side. Up, and over, until he’s flipped, startling to lay prone on his belly as his arms fail to assist or desist in the movement whatsoever. Hips lifted effortlessly, Xemnas is forced to balance on his knees, the pain on his restrained legs completely muted by the pleasure tingling out from between his neglected self. Spreading out his thighs, Xemnas assumes he’s providing a beautiful picture of a wet and used ass, and in time feels Ansem’s hands rub up the crux of him, a thumb or two sneaking into the stretched hole. He shudders from the sensation, attempting to press up on his elbows, but a firm hand moves from his ass to the small of his back, pressing him back down into the mattress. So be it. The remaining thumb joins itself with the familiar head of his cock, still hard and at the ready, and it slides past to join the digits intrusion. Aahh, there is that comfortable filling again, pressing up against the nerves of his insides, and without that gag, it spills from him pitifully, he’s assured, but has trouble caring. Ansem takes a slow, drawling pace to keep control of his own pleasure, but Xemnas impatiently bounces back at him, grumbling. Apparently, this is too sassy of an action, and his ability to have a mouth privileges are taken away; grabbed by a fistful of hair, Xemnas’ head is wrenched back, and the audacity of that has his mouth opening to vocalize his discomfort, but damn, there’s that rubber again, stuffed between his teeth. Plopping back down to the bed as he is released, there’s nearly a pitiful whine as he sits there, just barely moving himself from side to side as he, well, waits patiently, he supposes. Hands slide down from his back to his hips, sinking fingers in there, and equally sinking his cock into a well worn entrance.

A slow, steady pace, rougher on thrust inwards than the pull outwards. Each thrust sparking pleasure throughout Xemnas’ core, and now it even manages to travel down his legs; uncomfortably he shifts beneath his restraints in any attempt to stretch and relieve them, but it is to no avail. He feels that resistant material pulled taught across his legs, the thump of each buckle as Ansem’s thrust jostle them with his rough, accelerating pace. Soon enough, Xemnas feels the wall at the top of his head, the position changed from lengthwise across the bed to horizontal so that Ansem could stand and fuck into him with authority, but that unfortunately leaves him being fucked into a wall. The sheets bunch up from beneath him and catch on his shoulders, a discarded pillow pressing into his face as his posture travels from the thrusting behind him. Already muted by that rubber bit, the fabric and the wall choke breaths from him; not enough to harm him, but enough it sets a haze in his head that catches him moaning without mental restrain for each breath he does manage to pull in. His attention is caught by a hand shifting from its painful grip on his hips, sliding up his back until fingers weave into the long trails of the back of his hair, once again pulling in a fistful, but instead of pulling upwards, Ansem presses him down, anchors his body by that point to fuck into him ruthlessly. Where he was again before he’d stopped earlier, but rougher now, desperate and mean, the feral kind of fucking the King of Heartless usually dealt out to his submissive body once he has ‘earned’ it- and to his promise, Ansem had dutifully earned his submission without great physical fight. Xemnas sits there, spread and receiving with the utmost pliability, entirely willing and _wanting_ , so very wanting, wanting to be used, and controlled, and taken as he is. Cries spill from him at every given opportunity with each press that slams into his sensitive insides, ignoring his weeping cock entirely save for the occasional dip that has his tip dragging against the top of the sheets- since he’s being something fuckable, they’re both apt to forget his foremost pleasure beyond when he might accidentally brush him internally. Warm breath meets the side of his ear, and Xemnas swears he can hear his heart warbling sweet nothing into his ear, or at least can parse out the kind of dirty things he’d be mumbling at him, fuck-drunk and heated. Soon enough and expectedly, however, that mouth clamps teeth over his shoulder, and Xemnas feels himself pinned down by that painful grip, alongside the hand fisted into his hair, and the grip sinking, he can only assume by now, bleeding lines into the skin of his hip. The stuttering pace hits its climax, hilting him roughly and pumping into him. Those rasping gasps drool his pleasure into the pain of Xemnas’ shoulder, a few snaps of his jaw worrying teeth far enough into his skin to well blood, and it’s only now does Xemnas realize he’s been crying out without hesitation. Choking back those errant warblings- or he would have, but the moment he catches himself trying to be less whining, the grip on his hip snaps to the small of his back, and drags exceptionally sharp nails down his flesh. Fine fine, have it your way, you god damned animal, and Xemnas finds himself moaning muffled only by his bit and the sheets that collect around his head while Ansem uses those sounds to pulse out probably the heaviest climax he’d had in his life.

Between edging himself earlier and apparently earning himself Xemnas’ full vocal range, Ansem spends a long, hard time relieving himself. Soft movements of his hips to force himself in further than he can reach as he breeds him, lungs straining to breathe through the grip his teeth has around copper tasting skin. Slowly, he unclamps himself, licking over his teeth as he sits upright and inspects the damage casually- something Xemnas will feel in the morning, but nothing terribly detrimental. He unwraps his hand from his hair, replacing it to the side of him to hold himself up as he waits for the post-climax haze to fade, Xemnas remaining patiently placated beneath him beyond equally laboured breaths. Slipping himself out from inside, Ansem grabs those handles to the side of either leg to tug Xemnas backwards, relieving his neck and lungs from the strain of pressing into the wall, which he heaves in air in thanks for.

Still unable to move or free himself, however, Xemnas’ lets his legs spread back behind him until he’s belly flat on the bed, legs dangling off the edge as Ansem moves to lounge tiredly beside him. A hand trails up his back, following those lines he’d dug into him earlier, tapping an index where he’d gone deep enough to earn more of that blood. An ominous rumbling, however, Ansem decides that perhaps his body has had enough. Delicately, he moves to unbuckle his legs, each limb uselessly plopping to the floor as the lack of blood and pressure around his nerves left the limbs entirely numb. With his legs free now, Xemnas weakly moves them for any chance at regaining that blood flow, but before he can get his bearings, Ansem is flipping him back onto his back. Since he has yet to unbind his arms or remove the bit/blindfold, Xemnas assumes he has some kind of plan- and then he’s reminded with a firm grip on his cock that he is still very much unfinished. Oh, that’s right, I guess I could also, you know, cum. It was sort of a secondary thought- this kind of sex was pleasing for other reasons, but if Ansem has it in him to oblige his poor, neglected cock, he isn’t going to tell him no. Not that he could, since, well, there’s still a bit in his mouth.

Nestling in close to his side, Ansem noses into the crux of Xemnas’ neck, purring unheard into the sensitive skin there- not the mention the red welting from where he’d bitten into earlier. It’s a healthy mix of pleasure and pain, and now that he can adjust the feeling in his legs, the pleasure from Ansem’s slow methodical stroking hits him in pleasant waves. Moving his hips along in time, Xemnas chews over-stimulated frustration out on that bit, until a pitied hand reaches over to free his mouth. Then again, it’s apparently just to force him to taste his tongue again, that same hand that released him forcing his head to the side till lips meet. Thankfully enough for his heart, he doesn’t mind this, licking over his teeth in time with the stroking attention between his legs. Xemnas was never one to be easy- but after the foreplay, and the fucking, and the way he still remains half restricted in his arms, vision and hearing, his breath stutters, hips flexing forwards as he spills heartily past Ansem’s fingertips. He takes ample time to drain his climax from him, and then as Xemnas wears down, he doesn’t feel that pressure subsiding. Instead, Ansem really wrings it from him, taking that fistful of fluid and drawing it over and over the tip, well beyond the reasonable level of pleasure. Abruptly, it topples over into pain- but Xemnas still doesn’t immediately stop him, instead letting that sensation pierce down his legs and into his core. Ansem gets a few painful strokes in, at least, following Xemnas’ lower half as it fails to squirm away from his grip, until it truly is too much- and while he’d made effort to keep his arms contained, he’s next to his head, and Xemnas doesn’t shy away from busting Ansem in the forehead with his own. “Ow- fuck-,” but he can’t help but laugh, releasing his grip and letting his poor tortured cock alone.

Now there’s a period for them to both lay back and relax, catch their breaths. Wiping off his hand on his covered arm, Ansem moves to free his arms, and then his mouth, ears, earning him a dutiful clacking of teeth. He has no words for him, though, because Xemnas still can’t be entirely sure he enjoyed… that. The whole of that situation. He’ll know tomorrow with how often it perks up in his thoughts. At the very least, Ansem knows _he_ enjoyed it, so he’ll definitely pressure him again, because while Xemnas may not have survived to be uninjured for working tomorrow, Ansem is still in tip top shape.

When he moves to remove the blindfold, though, his hand is swatted away. “Ah~?” Ansem purrs, shifting out of the way as Xemnas makes himself horizontal and lengthwise to the bed, curling up there with the unbuckled restraints still on his arms and legs. “Too tired?”

Rasping, his voice hoarse from strain, “Why waste the darkness,” to the blindfold, Ansem assumes. Not that the light is on, but they both find themselves readily sensitive to light, so sure. Be blindfolded in the dark, and sleep. With a few testing past, Ansem sees if his body is receptive for company, and with no rise of complain verbally or physically, he settles down beside him, settling into ‘big spoon’ with an arm lazily draped over his side.

\---

As expected, Ansem rises in the morning, and Xemnas, does not. Much akin to trying to rise a ferret, his body is limp and unresponsive. Planned, however, for today was a ‘day off’.

Or was supposed to.

As he rises to observe their castle and its inhabitants, Xehanort and his younger self call his two halves for a meeting. Of course, Ansem sighs to himself, that no ‘vacation’ would ever be given to his closest hands, what did he expect. To his younger(but, technically, Ansem is ‘older’ than the ‘old man’?) self, “And where is Xemnas?”

“Well… you told me we weren’t doing anything today. So he is… indisposed.”

Ansem received two equally dull looks for this, the older of the two’s lips creeping just a touch into a smile, while the young Xehanort simply scowls. “You two disgust me,” as he turns on heel to leave.

“It’s not my fault. I planned accordingly.”

“That you did,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “and that it will be. Work will keep and wait for you two to be available.”

“And here I thought you planned already for all outcomes-“ he cuts himself off with purses lips and a restrained smile as a finger points up at his face, his Master’s scowl setting him straight.

“Don’t you test me, boy.”

He doesn’t say it, but he always thinks it. I’m older than you, old man.


End file.
